


More Smug than Glum*

by MatildaSwan



Category: Borgen (TV), The Thick Of It
Genre: Alternative realities, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, Multiship, light kink, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Subject to stimilus</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zip Me (Nicola/Malcolm)

**Author's Note:**

> Collection of drabbles involving characters swirling around TTOI 'verse

Nicola stumbled, cursing as she fell over her own shoe, trying to pull on yet another outfit. Malcolm lay on the bed, smirking as he watched the brunette scurry.

“No, not that one,” barely keeping the glee out of his voice. He thought she’d have caught on by now.

“Then which fucking one, Malcolm?!” Finally snapping after running around the room for twenty minutes.

Malcolm grew a heart and opened the wardrobe, pulling out a shining crimson dress for her to step into. Nicola smiled, fingers brushing over her neck as his other hand zipped the dress over her curves.


	2. Quiet Me (Nicola/Helen)

“That was a fucking disaster!” Nicola huffed, hands flailing as she walked through the doorway.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Helen tried to soothe. Nicola ignored her, pacing over the same three feet of carpet as she stared at her shoes, mumbling to herself. “And don’t yell at me,” she squawked, undignified sneer creasing her face.

“Then who should I be shouting at?” voice squeaking, broken sob at the back of her throat. Helen sighed and dropped her bag on the table: she knew the drill by now.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your foot out of your mouth.” She rounded on Nicola, finger pointed into her breastbone, pushing her against the bookcase. Her knee pressed Nicola’s thighs apart. “I can think of something else you can do with your mouth, though.”

Helen smiled as Nicola’s breathing hitched, then stabilised; smoother now than a moment ago, but faster than normal. She saw Nicola’s pupils dilate, blacken slightly, as Helen ran her nails along her scalp. Nicola rocked against Helen’s leg; anxiety ebbing into arousal.

Helen caught her hips, stilled them as she whispered in the older woman’s ear. Nicola’s moaned, nodded against Helen’s cheek and sank to her knees


	3. Call Me (Nicola/Birgitte)

Nicola’s eyes fluttered over the ballroom, searching out a brunette clad in aubergine in the mess of tuxedos and formal black dresses.

“Malcolm, have you seen Birgitte?” Nicola queried, her attempt at subtlety. Which might have worked on someone else, she’d actually managed to develop a poker-face in her time away from government, but this was Malcolm.

He grinned, leant down to whisper in her ear over the din of the conference. “I saw her slip out the side door a few minutes ago. It won’t raise eyebrows if you follow.”

Nicola blushed scarlet and hid her embarrassment in her champagne.

*

Birgitte walked into a dark room, thankful for a moments quiet and a chance for the ringing in her ears to die down. She lent against a bookshelf, she’d ended up in one of the private libraries, perched up slightly on one of the shelves.

She waited, anticipation knotting her stomach, unsure of how long she’d stay alone and if the message even got through. She enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, until she heard footsteps coming down the corridor.

Birgitte strode towards the door, arms snaking around Nicola’s waist before the Brit had a chance to breathe.


End file.
